Oh, the Gnarled Path
by writeforlove
Summary: She's fifteen and on the run from a past she can't escape, with the reason she can't forget in tow. On a bus headed nowhere, Casey struggles not to remember, as she tries to build life a fresh. A/U Themes are mature,content less so.
1. Oh, the Gnarled Path

**Oh, the Gnarled Path**

**Chapter One**

_A/N: This is mostly just to test the waters with this idea. I'm in love with the concept and will admit to liking the style (but won't be keeping it for more than this chapter). I'll probably write the rest of this story out anyway, but if anyone shows an interest, I'll post it. Just let me know! (I promise, I'm not angling for reviews, I just want to know!)_

She couldn't remember a time when the adults around hadn't beamed and called her responsible. Mature. Model child.

Of course, the other kids had always seen her in different terms- anal, compulsive, _freak_. But she even knew how to make that work for her. Or she had, once upon a time when she went to private school and dressed the right way and acted the right way. She had to admit, things had gotten away from her a bit when her mom got remarried.

And in a sense, that was the reason she was where she was.

She was fifteen, and suddenly the praise was gone… she wasn't responsible or mature and she was scarcely even a child anymore, let alone a model one. And none of that would be true if she'd never met _him_. Or more accurately, she supposed, them.

Not that she really know who she meant by _them_. The term was too imprecise, too ambiguous. Did she mean the boy? Yes… both boys. But her family, too. Stepfather, stepbrother, stepsister… mother and sister, they meant the world to her, her family always had.

And maybe _that_ was why she hadn't been able to take the easy way out, because family meant too much, and from the first instant- well, suffice it to say, she couldn't keep from opening her heart to her family.

The problem was, she'd try to embrace more than that. She'd found a friend… and then she met him. He was very ordinary, barely a blip on most people's radar, but to her, he'd been something more. She went for him because she thought he could be tidily tucked in a box and sorted neatly into her life… she'd stayed so long because he couldn't. But even though he'd intrigued her, she wasn't crossing the line for him… he wasn't worth it, not worth the loss of her pristine image. (She'd never thought she'd meet someone who was… until she met a pair of bright blue eyes.)

And when she told him that she loved her mother and her stepfather and herself too much to give up what she had for him, well… he proved she'd been right about him not being worth it. And she cried as the names he called her circled through her mind, chasing her on and on and-

Into _his_ arms. The Other one, who made that line disappear, even though she never should have let it go, not with him, never with him.

It was only a few hours insanity, but it would cost her the world when mother and stepfather found out. They Talked very seriously, Spoke about consequences, and-

She volunteered to go. She flew away to father in New York because by then, she knew a secret, one she'd go much farther to protect. Because, the thing was, she was at a loss, and _he _had been shaking his head ever since it happened, so there was no help there.

Maybe she thought that Daddy would step in and save the day, like she'd always wanted him too. (If she had, she was foolish, to expect anything but platitudes and disappointment.) Maybe she really just did see a chance at Escape.

Regardless, all she'd found in New York was a lesson in drying your own tears, and the inattentiveness required to get out when the Secret grew to big.

So she had left, gone out into the world knowing she couldn't stay and she couldn't go back to her real family and-

Suddenly her attention was drawn back to the present, by the fussing of the baby in her arms. "There, there, sweetie, shh," she murmured, looking around, hoping they hadn't disturbed anyone, "Mommy's got you."

Her name was Casey, she was a fifteen year old mother, travelling by bus to No Where with a fussy toddler. "There, there, baby, it will be okay."


	2. On the Trail, Leaving Tracks

**Chapter Two**

**On the Trail, Laying Tracks**

Once, her family had been her world, and she supposed the statement still held. It was the people who made up the concept that had shifted. A long time ago family had meant Mommy and Daddy and baby sister to Casey MacDonald. After that, it was just her, mom and Lizzie, but not for long, because then came George, Marti, Edwin… and even Derek, as much as he evaded any real attempt at classification. Now, all Casey had in the way of family was one small boy, and that small boy had only her.

But that didn't matter, because Casey took all the love she had for those she'd left behind and added it to what she already lavished on her son.

The problem was, love wasn't enough to nourish a growing boy like Dare, much as Casey wanted to believe it was. She was making out okay, she supposed, getting by, but that was only because her dad hadn't yet noticed she was still using his credit card to fund her wanderings across America.

She knew he eventually would, and when he realised, Casey knew he'd be able to track her down to Florida, where she'd spent the first days of Dare's life and then through the myriad states that she'd crossed on her way to California, where she'd landed yesterday. Casey knew that she needed to stop using the card, but once she did, that would be the end of the row. She wouldn't be able to afford to traverse by bus anymore, and she would have to stop, stay in one place. And Casey had no idea what she'd do once that happened.

She had never been so incredibly unprepared in all her life.

Casey had no plan, and her resources were rapidly depleting. Sure, she had the card, which she could probably use to fund another month's worth of bus trips before it maxed out. Besides that, she had a little less than five hundred dollars in cash, reaped from savings accounts and a handful of trinkets sold to a shifty man in a junky store. She also had her son, the one no one knew about, her little boy, who would never know his closest relations.

And so, Casey supposed, it evened out. Having Dare made up for not having a home in a lot of ways (what it didn't make up for was Dare not having a home…)

She knew that if she had remained, she never could have had her baby. Her mother had told Casey as much without even knowing about Dare, in those awful days, after her stepbrother had caught her in bed with _him_…

"_Are you pregnant?" Nora had asked baldly, after barging into her eldest daughter's room. Casey, who had been laying on her bed, just done with sobbing, was startled._

"_What-"_

"_Answer me," her mother had snapped, eyes closed as though she couldn't even stand the sight of her perfect child, so fallen from grace, "The sooner we know, the easier it will be to… take care of it."_

_Casey had gone cold. Fear and rage and panic had all mixed, churning in her gut, making her nauseous. "No!" she'd cried, as much a prayer as a denial. "I'm not pregnant!"_

"_Good," Nora had stated through gritted teeth, not seeming relieved by the news, only resentful that she'd been forced to seek it. She had left without once looking at Casey._

_She had cried a long time that night, playing her radio on full blast to cover her sobs, to drown out the sounds of another fight happening downstairs. When, a week later, Casey found out her mother's worries were actually well founded, she knew that she had to get out. She had to be away from London, where she could recover from the shock and reach her own conclusions, make her own plans._

_So, two days later, she had dried her tears, gone down stairs and gathered the family that could no longer be hers together. "I'm going to New York," she had announced, "To live with my dad."_

_Edwin had frowned, Lizzie had stormed out and Marti had wailed her denial. Derek's reaction was drowned out by the little girl's cries, but Casey thought he might have jerked towards her reflexively, before Marti had thrown herself at him. George had looked at Nora, and Casey's mother had said, "When do you leave?"_

That moment broke Casey, a little, hearing her mother so cold, so unable to connect with her, but it had also hardened her resolve. She was taking baby and getting the hell out of Dodge.

And she had, but the thing was, the next place she went after Dodge hadn't been so stellar either. Her father had read her a stern lecture right off the bat about how he expected her to behave while under his roof and had promptly signed her up at an all girls private school. That had been the last conversation consisting of more than a dozen words that they had had. Casey worried constantly about what her father would say when he finally realised she was pregnant. She had half hoped to find refuge with her father, someone who would stand beside her… take care of her.

But that was foolish, since her dad had never really been the hands on type of parent. Casey had realised within about five minutes of landing in New York that she'd miscalculated in a fundamental way.

And that was it. Casey was out of places to run to, there was no longer any chance of finding support for the decision she had made. So Casey had no choice but to go it alone, harden her resolve and prepare to become totally independent in the scary, grown up way.

She'd spent the next months playing the role of the good daughter, and preparing to flee. She saved all the money she could, packed and repacked her bag, and she studied maps. In the end though, she simply gone to the bus station and bought a ticket for the first bus out of town. There was nowhere she particularly wanted to end up, so Casey figured it didn't matter how she got there. A bus going South was just as good as one headed North.

And in that way, Casey had landed in Miami, which was where Dare was born, in a hospital she'd paid for with the largest part of her savings. She'd stayed a few weeks there, but soon Casey was sick of staying. She was ready to hop another bus and leave behind the relentless sunshine shelter where she had been staying.

Two days later, she was somewhere in Georgia, a small town along the bus route where Casey could feel the history in the streets. She might have stayed awhile there, but she'd already found it was easier to deal with Dare when they were on a bus then when they were stuck in towns, wondering where to go to sleep at night. That was the problem Casey had in the vast majority of American states. There was no place to go when you didn't have money to pay for the privilege.

Casey supposed that was probably true in Canada as well, but she'd never thought to ask those who didn't have money how they lived in her hometown.

Now she was scrambling to gather knowledge from the people who ran shelters, and those who had lived in them for years.

One thing she learned quickly was that you had to treat every day as a new adventure, all its own. There could be no planning when you didn't know where your next meal was coming from or where you'd sleep that night. Each day, you had to deal with the situation that arose.

Today's dilemma centred around the fact that her baby boy was now a year old.

In honour of the occasion, Casey was going to splurge on a trip to MacDonald's. She'd order a burger and Dare could have the fries. Casey had only bought him French fries once before, but he'd giggled and smiled as she fed them to him. Maybe they could even have an ice cream afterwards.

But before any of that could happen, Casey had to get them both cleaned up, which was generally harder to do than to say.

"Come on, Dare, sweetie," Casey cooed as her little boy babbled and kicked his feet, "Just hold still for mommy."

Casey eventually managed to wash most of her son in bits and pieces in the sink of the public washroom in the park where they'd slept the night before. The clothes were harder, but she managed to find a presentable t-shirt in the bottom of the bag, and his jeans are clean enough to do. Carefully, she brushes his hair, cleans his teeth as he squirms and giggles. Finally, he looks better than he has in weeks, like an ordinary little boy. Perhaps his hair is a little too long, he may be a bit too thin, but what of it? He looks like a prince to Casey, even despite the faded, too big denim jacket.

She is much more critical of her own reflection, but there's less she can do about it. She wets the brush before smoothing it through hair long grown out of its last style. She pulls long brown locks back into a pony tale and scrubs her face and hands clean. The sweater she wears is faded, but warm, one of her better thrift store finds. There is little else she can do, now, beyond scrub her teeth and remember wistfully a closet of pretty clothes she's left behind.

But the melancholy spell is soon broken when she looks down at Dare to find his blue eyes tipped up, looking at her, too. And he smiles his baby's grin, the white teeth impossibly small. The world is good again, because Dare is happy.

"Come on, sunshine, Mommy has a treat for you today!" she says, sweeping the toddler into her arms and twirling him out the door. It is well they're done, because on the way out they pass the woman who is clearly employed to clean this washroom. She looks down her nose at Casey and Dare and their beaten up backpack. Casey knows she would have liked to cause them problems, tell them off, it she'd had the chance.

But soon the young mother shrugs it off. Nothing can up set her for long, not today. It's Dare's birthday and she's going to make it count! There is much to celebrate today, after all. Dare is one whole year old, which is very important in the life of a child, and what's more, it's been more than a year since Casey left her father's apartment for the last time, and they are still okay.

Sure, there are things they lack, make do without, things Casey misses. It's been much more than a year since she spoke to Lizzie, or anyone else…

That thought, though she tries to push it aside, recurs again and again in Casey's mind. Finally, sitting on a park bench while Dare naps beside her, Casey makes a foolish decision. She counts up her change carefully, but she knew she had enough because they didn't get ice cream after all.

Casey carefully drops the coins into the payphone beside the bench, one hand resting on Dare's shaggy head. She presses the long string of numbers…

And it rings. She wants to hang up, but she can't and really, wouldn't that just be a waste of money? So she presses the phone to her ear and waits.

"Hello?" says a voice out of a memory.

"Hi," Casey says, fighting tears, "Can I talk to Lizzie?" It hurts when Marti, the little stepsister she still adores, passes on the phone, never recognising the voice on the other end. But then Lizzie is there, and the feeling of warmth Casey has then makes up for the little girl's forgetfulness.

"Oh, Lizard," Casey sighs to her little sister.

"Casey?" gasps the other, "Where are you? Are you okay? What happened to you?"

"I'm in California, Lizard," she says before she thinks about it. "But you can't tell anyone!"

"So… you're not on your way home? You're still in L.A.?"

"Wait- you know I'm in L.A.? I've only been here two days-"

"Dad tracked you, through your credit card," Lizzie told her, "He sends me an email when you buy another bus ticket."

"But…if they knew, why didn't they come after me?" Casey asked, feeling hurt in a way she didn't think she could be hurt anymore, blindsided by further parental indifference.

"Dad said you'd come home on your own," Lizzie said in a small voice, "If we left you long enough, and then he threatened to stop telling mom where you were if she tried to go after you. But are you coming home?"

"No, we can't, I'm sorry," Casey is crying now, partly because she misses Lizzie and partially because her parents _knew, _this whole time and mostly becausethat's two stupid things she's said now.

"Who's we?" asked Lizzie slowly, accusingly, as if both reluctant and desperate to hear the name of the one who'd replaced the family in Casey's affections and daily life.

"Me and Darius," Casey said, closing her eyes and hoping she could pull herself together enough to have this conversation.

"Who's Darius?" asked Lizzie, sounding angry now, as though having a name to focus on, a person to blame for her sister's defection had brought the rage out in her.

"He's the love of my life, Lizard," Casey said, tears dripping down her cheeks, as she stroked her son's hair.

"Really? Did you meet him in New York? Is he the reason you ran away from Dad's?"

"He's the reason," Casey admitted, "But don't hate him for it, Liz. I love him so much, and we're happy here, Dare and me."

"Don't hate him? How do you expect me not to?" Lizzie's voice was raising, tears clear in her voice, and Casey wished so much that she hadn't called, "He stole my sister, Casey! He took you away from us, even farther away than New York! Do you know how long they've been searching for you? Mom's a wreck! He did that to her! You both did, Casey! Come back home, Casey, or I'll make dad go get you! You know I can, you know he'll do it, if I ask! Come home, now!"

And Casey would have tried to do something, say something to bring Lizzie around, but there was scuffling on the other end and Lizzie's attention was pulled away from the phone. Suddenly there was a different voice on the other end.

"Casey? Casey, is that you, sweetie?" her mom's voice is pleading, but all the same, Casey goes cold, thinking of the last words she'd said.

She slams down the receiver, and pulls Dare into her arms, gathering their things frantically. She picks up her son and their backpack and she runs from the payphone, as though her mother could somehow reach down through the line and snatch away Casey's son.

And Casey runs right to the bus station, because where else is she supposed to go? And she's already bought a ticket before she remembers Lizzie's threat and the fact that her Dad's credit card is a liability now. So she buys two more tickets, for buses going in two different directions, and she takes them over to the bench, still juggling a sleepy Dare and their backpack. Casey stares at the tickets, and tries to make a decision. Where to next?

She sits there so long, she misses the first bus. She crumples that ticket and still can't choose between the options left to her. And so the second bus rolls out of town without her. So Casey supposes that she and Dare will have to wait around another two hours for the last bus, which will take them Las Vegas.

Casey wrinkles her nose, wishing that she had just pulled herself together in time to get on the bus that would take her north, or even the one headed to San Diego. Vegas was just not a place Casey MacDonald could see herself in, especially not at the age of sixteen with a small child. Maybe that was a good thing, though. Perhaps her former family would also find it impossible to picture her in Las Vegas, and maybe this could be her true escape.

Still, Casey had been looking forward to taking Dare to the beach. She'd thought they might camp there, if she could find them a quiet stretch. To Casey, that made running away seem like an adventure again, like it had on the way to Miami. She had really, really wanted to paddle in the ocean with Dare…

Perhaps she still could, they had two hours to spare, before the bus left. Of course, they'd want to be back a bit before that, so they could get on board and make sure they didn't miss it.

Not that Casey had ever wanted to miss a bus _more_ than she did right now. But it wouldn't be smart to miss this one, not when she'd used up most of her resources buying the ticket.

And then a thought struck Casey. Maybe missing this bus would be very, very wise, after all. She'd bought three bus tickets to confuse people, and cover her tracks, hadn't she? Well, what would confuse people more than buying three tickets and not using any of them?

It was a scary thought, Casey acknowledged, tantamount to saying she wanted California to be her new home, but it was a good thought, too.

Before she could talk herself out of it, Casey picked up her son, who had been growing cranky anyway, and walked out of the bus terminal. Once outside, she paused a moment and looked around.

Yes, she and Dare could be happy here.

***

"Okay, Lizzie, run through it, one more time," he asked.

"I've already told you everything Casey said to me twice!" replied the girl in frustration. "She said she was in California, and was surprised that I already knew. Then she asked why you hadn't come after her, if you knew where she was. I begged her to come home, and she told me she couldn't."

"Couldn't, not wouldn't?" Nora interjected again.

"Yes!"

"And then what happened?" prompted George, focusing on his stepdaughter, rather than his wife or her ex, both beside him and opposite Lizzie at their dining room table.

"We got in a fight," Lizzie said, "I asked why she ran away from New York, she told me she was happier that way, but that I shouldn't hate dad for letting her get away. Then I yelled, mom realised who was on the phone and took it from me."

"You're sure that's all she said? All you said?" her dad asked, for the third time.

"Yes," Lizzie said, staring down all three of the adults.

"Why don't you go, Liz?" asked George finally, "We need to talk about some things."

Lizzie left, headed up to her room. On the way, someone intercepted her, though.

"What didn't you tell them?" Derek asked quietly, once he'd dragged his stepsister into his bedroom.

"What makes you think I didn't tell them everything?"

"I heard more of the conversation on the phone than Nora did," Derek told her, gesturing for Lizzie to find a seat, "I heard you ask Casey if she 'met him in New York' and if he was 'the reason she ran away'."

Lizzie sighed. "His name is Darius, apparently, but she calls him Dare."

"So she met a guy in New York, and what? Eloped?" Derek asked, one hand clenched in to a fist.

Lizzie looked up at him, seeming conflicted. "I guess…"

"What else do you know?" Derek asked, pouncing on the hesitation, leaning in to sling an arm around the younger girl.

"It's not really something I know," Lizzie countered, "Only, 'Darius' was always her favourite name, when we were little, and it's hardly a common one."

"So what? You think she made up a pretend boyfriend?" Derek scoffed, but his mood seemed to lighten a little.

"I don't know, but it's an awfully big coincidence," Lizzie said, before sighing, "Look, Derek, all I really know is that every imaginary friend and dream prince my sister ever had was named Darius after some Persian king."


	3. Gnarled Equilibrium

**Chapter Three**

Casey had always been a firm believer in doing things properly, when at all possible. Sure, she now knew that some circumstances made correct procedure impossible, and she had learned to adapt, when she had to, but she still felt that the only way to move on to the next phase of anything was to divorce yourself completely from the last one.

In short, Casey believed in getting closure, which probably explained why she had thought calling home was a good idea. Casey had even thought she'd feel better, more able to move forward.

Unfortunately, all those brief moments of conversation with Lizzie had done were bring back the memories and the ache of homesickness more fiercely than she'd felt it since Dare was born. And all the even briefer phone encounter with her mother had done was remind Casey that she could never go home again.

So, a week later, when Dare was refusing to be picked up and she hadn't had anything to eat that day, Casey finally snapped. She sat down in the sand and closed her eyes and tried to will herself back in time, back to before all this had begun. She remembered the freedom of her easy, uncomplicated high school life, where Emily's crush on her step-brother was her biggest concern. She remembered living in a house where there was always someone around when you needed to talk. Casey focused a little further back and remembered a time when her mother was her best friend, when they discussed everything…

But before Casey could really start to long for the days before her parent's divorce, a small force crashed into her, nearly knocking her backwards. Casey instinctively caught her son to her, and opened her eyes. "Hungry, mama," he said, smiling up at her winningly. Casey grinned back.

"Okay, baby, we'll get something to eat," she said, for once not even thinking of the rapidly shrinking wad of bills in her pocket.

~LwD~LwD~

Lizzie was crouched at the head of the stairs, listening intently to the three angry voices in the living room below. She'd been here nearly an hour, and had learned some interesting things, but in the last few minutes, it had all deteriorated into accusations and temper tantrums. Not long after the shouting began, the meeting broke up and the participants scattered.

Lizzie headed up to a meeting of her own, a worried frown marring her expression. She wasn't sure what to do with what she'd heard, and she wasn't certain she wanted to be the one responsible for spreading this bit of news. But what could she really do? Derek's orders were best followed unless they got really preposterous.

Her step-brother's head snapped up when she walked into his bedroom, and he didn't even bother with the pretence of kicking her out. But then, Edwin had been sitting at his computer for the last hour, and Derek hadn't said a thing about that, either.

"Well?" he asked, sitting up on the bed and tossing his comic book carelessly aside.

"Well, what?" retorted Lizzie, glancing at Edwin, who refused to look up, "We already knew what I'd find out."

"So you know where she is?" he asked, "Specifically, this time? No more vague 'she's in California'?"

"Not exactly," Lizzie replied, "I know she was in L.A., where she bought not one, but _three_ bus tickets."

"She bought three tickets at once?" Derek asked, grimacing, "Who's she taking where?"

"That's the thing, she didn't buy three tickets to one place, she bought three tickets on three separate buses, going to three separate cities."

Derek grinned, "So Casey _did _make him up. I knew no one would saddle their kid with the name "Darius'. So, which bus did she take?

"They've got no idea," Lizzie replied, "My dad says she maxed out his credit card on the tickets, so they've got no way of tracking her now. Mom started yelling at my dad for not letting her go get Casey when she was in Miami, then dad shouted about how none of this would have happened if she could have controlled Casey in the first place. Then your dad weighed in and said that they'd _all_ been bad parents and they should just focus on finding Casey."

"So they've got no idea where she went?" asked Derek.

"No, how could they?"

"Bet I can figure it out," Derek said with no hesitation, "Where did she buy tickets for?"

"San Francisco, San Diego and Las Vegas," Lizzie recited. "Apparently the one to San Francisco left almost as soon as Casey bought the ticket, the one to San Diego not long after and the one for Las Vegas a couple hours later. The parents have been trying to logic it out, analyse all the angels, you know, think like Casey. They just kept bickering, they never did figure it out."

"That's easy," Derek said after a moment of thought, "She's in L.A."

~LwD~LwD~

It was late.

Denis had gone back to his hotel, Marti was in bed, and Nora had fled to her room as soon as she'd finished tucking the small girl in. Derek and Lizzie were still holed up in his room, trying to figure out what to do. Edwin had left them some time ago, though they'd barely noticed.

Ed had been good at going unnoticed, lately. Maybe it had something to do with the terrible guilt he'd harboured since Casey had split. If only he hadn't run to Nora with what he'd seen, if only he hadn't freaked out, then maybe none of this would have happened. But, after months and months of brooding, Edwin had come to a realisation.

There was squat he could do about the past or his role in it.

He knew, though, that there was something he could do to make up for it all. He knew he could help Denis and Nora and his dad bring Casey home.

Edwin found his father slumped disconsolately over a bowl of ice cream in the kitchen. He leaned onto the island across from him. "Dad," he said. George looked up in surprise.

"I thought you were in bed, son," said George, offering his middle child the ice cream carton.

Edwin blinked, frowning a bit, "Dad, it's barely eight o'clock."

George frowned as well, looking at his watch, "It feels later than that."

"I know," Edwin agreed, "That's because the big fight between you, Nora and Denis cleared the house faster than the old Casey-Derek one's used to. Everyone's hiding, even Marti went to bed _early_."

"It wasn't a fight," George said unconvincingly, poking at his ice cream with his spoon.

"Yeah, it was," Edwin insisted, "And I can help you make sure you never have one again."

George seemed sceptical of his son's dramatic pronouncement, "You're not trying to sell me something, are you Ed?"

"No, dad, I'm not," Edwin said, then he sighed, closed his eyes a moment, then continued, "I know where Casey is."

When this produced no immediate result, Edwin went on, "She's in L.A."

"How could you possibly know that?"

"Derek told me," Edwin said, keeping his gaze steady on his father.

"And how does Derek know?" asked George, seeming somewhere between scared and resigned, "They're not in contact, are they?"

"No, Derek just knows her, and he says she would have stayed in L.A." Edwin informed his father, "Derek says Casey can't make up her mind to save her life, so she wouldn't have been able to pick a bus and then she would have convinced herself it was wonderfully clever to stay where she was."

George frowned, "That _does _sound like Casey," he admitted, "But, be that as it may, it doesn't mean she's necessarily in L.A."

"Don't you think we need to look, if there's a chance Derek's right?"

"It's not our place, Ed," George countered.

"Of course it's our place! Casey is my _sister_," he said, "I might not have realised it when she was still here, and I definitely didn't tell her that ever, but she's been my sister practically since I met her."

George sighed, "As nice it is to hear you feel that way, it doesn't really change much. You may think of her as a sister, but Casey isn't actually related to either of us. I have to go along with what Denis and Nora decide, whatever I think."

"You know Nora wants Casey brought home! _We could make that happen_," Edwin cried, trying to make his dad _see_.

"We can't. It doesn't matter if I think I know what Nora wants; she's not willing to go after Casey when Denis doesn't think it's for the best. So, all I can do for now is try to support her."

George got up and left, leaving his ice cream melting

~LwD~LwD~

This was it. Casey had been putting this off for a long time now, but she couldn't avoid it any longer. Still, she tried to prolong the moment a bit, pausing on the sidewalk outside the building.

She may have stood out on the sidewalk all day, if not for one small issue.

Dare was hungry and Casey was out of money.

So, Casey took a deep breath, steeled herself and pulled her squirming toddler through the door. She wasn't really prepared for it to look so… inviting inside.

~LwD~LwD~

"Nora?" George whispered later that night, staring at the darkened ceiling of his bedroom, not even sure his wife was awake.

"Yes, George?" she whispered back.

"The kids think they know where Casey is."

~LwD~LwD~

"Derek?" Lizzie called into his darkened bedroom, not sure she wanted her step-brother to be awake.

"What?" he hissed back.

"Why do you care where Casey is?"

~LwD~LwD~

"Has she called again?"

"No," George replied quickly, "They just know her, and think they know what decision she'd make."

"Oh," said Nora.

"I think they're right, I think they know where she is."

~LwD~LwD~

"What makes you think I care?"

"Nothing," Lizzie replied, "Just the fact that you seemed interested in knowing where she was."

"Huh," said Derek.

"I know you and Casey…you know, before she left…" Lizzie said, trying to be delicate, only to be met by Derek's blank stare, "I know what Edwin saw, what he told mom and George."

"You know what, Liz? People need to stop assuming they know the meaning of what Ed saw."

~LwD~LwD~

Nora paused. "Even if we do know what city she was in, there's no guarantee that we could just fly on down and find her."

"Don't you think we have to try?" George asked.

"She called once," Nora countered, turning her back, "Maybe she'll call again.

George sighed in frustration. Somehow, he didn't think it was all that likely.

~LwD~LwD~

Marti watched as her sister crossed the darkened hallway, heading from Derek's room to her own. She wasn't totally sure what was happening lately, just that she knew it was all about her step-sister Casey.

It gave Marti a funny feeling in her tummy, to think that she had spoken to the older girl on the telephone with out even realising it. Casey was Marti's sister… or she was supposed to be. Marti figured that she should at least be able to recognise the sound of her eldest step-sister on the phone.

She couldn't though, and that made Marti sad, almost as sad as seeing how upset Lizzie and Derek were lately. So, Marti took her sadness and stole up into Edwin's room.

"Ed?" she asked quietly. Her big brother, still half asleep, dragged her into his bed.

"Can't sleep?" he grunted at her.

"Neither can Lizzie and Smerek," she responded sadly.

"Me either."

~LwD~LwD~

Back in her own room, Lizzie booted up Casey's old laptop. Once the machine was awake, she flipped listlessly through the files stored on it, less because she thought she might discover some miraculous clue, then for the strange sense of connection she felt to her absent sister when she rifled through old essays and poems that belonged to Casey.

She had searched computer's memory endlessly, at first, looking, she supposed, for answers. Instead, lately she was more unsettled by what she didn't find.

There were no references to Casey's relationship with Derek in diary file that the girl had kept just prior to her departure, no sonnets about clandestine love. There were few references to Derek at all, after the first month or so when the MacDonald-Venturi family had merged, not so much as his birthday entered into her calendar.

There, was, however, a short message saved in the drafts folder of her laptop's email program.

Lizzie had that memorised, but she clicked it open anyway.

~LwD~LwD~

Derek was left in a very foul mood by the time Lizzie had gone. He punched his pillows and twisted restlessly around, thinking angrily all the while.

Everyone thought they knew what had gone down between him and Casey, thought they understood on the strength of what Edwin had glimpsed. They didn't get it, though. None of them really knew what had happened in those final days, no one had ever bothered to listen. Not before Casey had gone to New York, or after she'd left, or even after she'd disappeared.

They made their judgements and acted like they knew everything, but really, Derek was the only one who'd ever really known Casey, and even he didn't know where she'd gone or why she'd left.

~LwD~LwD~

"Does Casey remember me?"

Edwin sighed, knowing that the little girl beside him was suffering more than most people realised. She tended to be a bit overlooked because everyone assumed that she was too young to really be aware of what was happening to her family. Edwin couldn't do that to Marti, though, not when she sounded so small and sad in the bed next to him. "Why would you ask that, kiddo?"

"Because… I don't think I really remember her," Marti admitted tearfully, "And- and… I should, because she's, you know… our sister."

"Marti, listen to me, alright?" Edwin said seriously, "Of course Casey remembers you. You're unforgettable, kid."

"Then maybe…maybe you could help me remember her, a bit," Marti said pleadingly. "So I know what she's like for when she comes back."

Edwin sighed again. He was barely thirteen, and totally not old enough to know the magic words to make this situation all better, maybe not even old enough to know for sure that there weren't any such words. Still, he had to try, didn't he?

"Okay, Marti," he began, "Casey was probably the most organized person you'll ever meet…"

~LwD~LwD~

It was sunny, and Dare was happily playing with kids his own age. Casey was really clean for the first time in far longer than she cared to think about. She knew that this couldn't last forever, but for now, things were good. They had a bed at a shelter, and there was a friendly woman working there who thought Dare was the best kid ever.

Casey watched carefully as Dare climbed to the top of the jungle gym. He really had no fear, which made his mother sort of proud and nervous all at once. Casey smiled for a moment as she watched her little boy as he turned his attention towards her. When their eyes met, his face lit up.

"Momma!" he called, "Catch me!"

And Dare prepared to fling himself off the playground equipment as Casey all but flew forward, heart beating hard in her chest. She was terrified that she wouldn't get to him in time…

But she did make it, and seconds later, her baby was safely in her arms. "Dare! Don't do that sort of thing, baby! You scared momma."

His blue eyes turned up to her in puzzlement. "Sorry, momma," he said, like Casey had taught him to do. Sometimes she wondered if her boy really knew what it meant to be sorry, or if he just knew that that was the magic word to keep her from scolding him.

She sighed, and turned away from the playground. "Come on, baby. Maybe Miss Carmichael will have a something nice to eat at the shelter for supper."

Thinking about the shelter, and the woman who worked there, Casey felt more stable than she had in a very long time. She knew she couldn't stay here forever, but for the first time in a while, Casey was starting to look further into the future than the next day.

Of course, thinking about the next day still couldn't prepare you for the bad things around the bend, when you couldn't see them coming.

~LwD~LwD~

Lizzie's eyes slid over the words, unfocused, and even so, she was able to repeat the familiar phrases out loud.

"_Sometimes, I think you're right, and that he's no good for me, and I really want to take your advice and just be through with him. But it's more complicated than that, because…I feel drawn to him… tied to him…stuck with him._

_But at the same time, I can tell that something bad is about to happen, like he and I are some sort of slowly ticking time bomb. We're combustible in all the wrong ways, and very few of the right ways. When I'm with him, sometimes the fear is so thick in my throat that I can't breathe, waiting for the other shoe to drop._

_And yet… I can't make myself move on. About the only thing that's keeping me from totally hating myself, it that I'm pretty certain by now, that if I ever find the strength to end it, you'll be on my side."_

That was all Casey had written, and the address bar was blank. Lizzie couldn't find any sort of clue about who Casey was writing to, or about. The younger girl couldn't even figure out if the three scant paragraphs were real, or perhaps just a snatch of a story Casey had been working on.

In the end, all that unfinished email served to do was demonstrate to Lizzie that she'd never known her sister all that well, not when Casey was still living just down the hall, and certainly not after she'd left New York.


End file.
